Crackarella
by DarkmoonSigel
Summary: Some random crack for you inspired by a random conversation with kohane-hime on DA who is also known as maplevogel on Tumblr. a retelling of Cinderella and some late Olympic humor. Rated M for naked France, bad language, and worse writing. Read at your own risk


FOR THE LOVE OF PASTA, READ THE DAMN WARNING!  
IT IS THERE FOR A REASON…..

Warning: Some of these stories(not all) in the coming chapters will contain Yaoi. Yaoi is boy x boy love, man meat on man meat, all wieners-no buns. If you are not into that, do not read or complain. You have been fairly warned.

…  
If you are driving the short bus and still don't get it, Yaoi=Gay.

This story and Axis Powers Hetalia depicts people and persons as the direct personification of that nation/country, so if this concept bothers you, this might not be the right story for you, especially if you are unable to mentally grasp that these nations are centuries years old despite their outward appearance.

All people, persons, nations, and whatever represented in these stories are of legal age. No minors of any kind are depicted in these stories by the author, personal perception(s) of the reader(s) aside. Keep walking pedobears, nothing for you here.

It boils down to this-  
IF YOU DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ. IT'S THAT FREAKING SIMPLE!

"FACEPALM"…FOR THE LOVE OF DOITSU AND BEER…..  
I have nothing against any characters/states/nations of Hetalia. I understand that everyone has their favorite characters/pairing. I know I do. If you don't like how a character(s) is portrayed, please don't be a hater about it. If you think the writing is shit(I don't know what you expect-it already states I'm a hack on my profile), then write your own damn story about the nations. It is a lot easier to critic that create. Please keep that in mind. And once again-  
IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, DON'T READ! NOT A HARD CONCEPT!

Enjoy. 3  
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APH Crackarella

Once upon a time in a kingdom far, far away there lived a beautiful girl…..

…..Sort of….

…  
…..Ok, not really. Just roll with it.

"Dude…..why am I in a dress? Even better question, why are we all in dresses? Are we having a bro-ment?", America pointed out the obvious to the others in the room. The self proclaimed hero was in a rather frilly pink getup with ridiculously fluffy petticoats and long puffy sleeves. England was in a more sedate green gown which he thought he was pulling off well, all things considered. In comparison, Canada's dress was very plain looking and more than a little dirty. He was also holding a broom for some reason.

"It is obvious that we had been cast in a fairy tale story of some sort, you git. Just do your best to stay in character. This whole thing will be over soon enough and we will all be home in time for tea and scones.", England surmised as he studied the room and their apparel. It was a fancy room though the furniture was from no particular time period that he could recognized, and being 'older than dirt' as America would put it, that was saying something. Everything seemed to be a jumble between medieval and modern but with a twist.

"Who am I supposed to be?", America asked, making a face down at his dress. It was decorated with satiny bows, a lot of them. It looked as if some insane seamstress had been given too much time and bunting for anyone's own good.

"Sodding hell, how should I know?', England snapped, more out of reflecx than anything. England was too busy admiring himself as he an experimental twirl for the mirror. He really did have the legs for this. Shame the dress was full length.

"Um, duh. Fairies are sorta your department.", America said as he seriously considered butchering the bows off of his dress, looking around the room for something to do it with.

"Says the nation that has Disney World and Disney Land within his borders as well as a plethora of sugary sweet movies devoted to the subject matter.", England shot back, striking a pose. The A line of the dress was doing wonders for his waist.

"Um…I think…", Canada mumbled. He wasn't heard as America and England continued to argue. The nation looked down when he felt a tug on the hem of his soiled dress.

"You need to speak up.", Kumajirou told him.

"Who are you?", Canada deadpanned.

"Look hoser, we don't have time for this shit. I want pancakes! Now speak up or I'll bite off your fucken ankles!", Kumajirou snapped.

Canada sighed at his demanding little bear, before taking a deep breath. "WE ARE IN CINDERELLA!", he yelled, making the other two nation almost fall over in surprise from it.

"Calm yourself down. There is no need to yell, pet.", England lightly reprimanded as he gave Canada a reproachful look as he straightened his gown.

"This is awesome! I get to sing with mice, and ride in a pumpkin, and lose shoes!", America babbled, looking positively giddy at the prospect.

"I think not.", England interrupted solemnly with a definite nod of his head as he reevaluated the situation.

"Awwww! Why not?!", America whined, his images for balls and long dance numbers with wildlife coming to a crashing halt.

"If you had bothered to take your head out of your own arse and look around, you would have noticed the sorry state of Canada's gown. If I were to be the judge, I would have to say that he is Cinderella and not you.", England explained, gesturing to the Canadian.

"Fucking bullshit! Who am I supposed to be then?", America griped, kicking a convenient settee in a mini fit of disappointment over the loss of singing duets with rodents.

"Well, since I am wearing an exquisite gown comparatively to your more juvenile apparel so I would have to say that you are the evil stepsister.", England smirked, reaching over to flick at a bow.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Not cool, bro! Heroes can't be evil!", America called a timeout with his hands.

"It's just a story, you irritating twat. Just play your part so we can go home, damn it.", England rolled his eyes, ignoring the hand signal. "Be grateful that this looks like your tripe version of the classic and not the original story. You would have to cut off your heel in that one."

"What the hell? Why would I do something stupid like that?", America gaped, hiding his feet under his gown.

"To make the shoe fit of course. Do you actually watch any of your god forsaken movies?", England snapped.

"Whatever. You're just bitter that I made them better that yours, old man.", America smirked with a superior look on his face.

"Actually, Cinderella is a French fairy tale.", Canada corrected, "It was mistranslated. Her original name was Aschenputtel and that means 'Cinder fool'.

"Ah, but that is another misconception. The core story of Cinderella has been around since the time of the Greeks.", England lectured. "In fact, every culture has its very own version of this tale."

"Whatever, who gives a shit?! Story in a nutshell- Bitch dun loses her shoe and shit happens." , America pointed out, "Hey, aren't there supposed to be two evil stepsisters? So if England is the bitch queen mother, and Canada is so unfairly Cinderella and I'm an evil but still totally awesome stepsister, who is the other evil stepsister?"

"That's me!", Sealand yelled, making all the other nation jump in surprise as the micro nation jumped out from behind a couch.

"Wha?…..", America asked Sealand before he could stop himself cause no one is supposed to talk to Sealand. Dems the rules, bitches.

"I'm a nation!", Sealand declared proudly. He was in a dress along with the rest of them.

"Um…..what?", America tried again the nation obviously at a total loss.

"Oh for fuck's sake! There were two evil stepsisters. I think it is safe to presume that Sealand is the other.", England growled, not happy about it either.

"Oh, hell no! I'm a fucking world power. I am not playing sisters with that little fucktard of a fort.", America griped, "I have states….no, fuck that. I have counties…no, fuck that too. I have trucks larger than him!".

"England! Make him stop being so mean!", Sealand whined to his former keeper.

"Now, now America.", England intervened, patting Sealand's head. The micro nation stuck out his tongue at super power who made a face back. "I know he is obnoxious, loud, a bit of a fusspot, and all around irritating little sod in need of a jolly good hiding….."

"Hey, you Jerk!"

"…..On second thought, he is the perfect sibling for you.", England finished. "Canada is wasted on you."

"Go to hell, England!", America threw himself into a chair to huff about the unfairness of life and fairy tales toward heroes.

"So has the story begun?", Kumajiro asked, tilting his head to the side in thought.

"Yeah.", Canada sighed, "Good enough."

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Meanwhile in a castle not too far away….  
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At court, a prince stood before the King and Queen's thrones, awaiting their royal proclamation.

"You need to get married.", Austria told the prince in blunt manner, looking particularly smug about it. It was good to be the king.

"I would like to see you make me, dummkopf. What about West? Marry his ass off.", Prussia shot back, not missing a beat. The Germanic nations were doing a little bit better with the whole fairy tale concept than the blonde family of nations.

"You are older and anyway your brother is already in a relationship…..of sorts.", Hungary pointed out as she rubbed her hands together, already imagining the ball.

"Ja, with a cross-dressing maid. There's a mentally healthy relationship. Rock solid.", Prussia snickered. He was liking this story so far. He had a castle to run around in and servants to boss around. Even Gilbird had his own footman.

"Princess in disguise?", Austria reasoned, not really wanting to drag Germany or Italy into this. The tall blonde had made it very clear he was taking no part in this tale whatsoever, and had secured himself and Italy within the confines of the castle's kitchen for the remainder of the story.

"Idiot in disguise more like it.", Prussia grinned, swinging his sword around because he could.

"This isn't about Germany.", Hungary huffed, glaring at the Prussian for stalling her ball.

"Why not?", Prussia shot back just to be difficult.

"Look jackass, you're getting married and that's final!" Hungary yelled, pointed her specter *cough*frying pan*cough* at the prince.

"This is bullshit!", Prussia yelled back, unimpressed by the queen's weapon of choice. He had been hit worse by better.

"Tough titties. Send out a message to all in the land.", Hungary shrugged. She went back to grinned evilly to herself, imagining who would be attending the ball. Prussia and Austria wisely gave her some space.

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"So evil mom….."

"America.", England glared a warning at his former colony. America was currently demolishing all of the tea cookies just so that Sealand couldn't have any. America felt he was allowed to considering he was supposed to be playing an evil stepsister. Canada didn't have the heart to tell him that not only was he doing it wrong, but he was also directing his 'evilness' at the wrong person.

"Oh excuse me, evil mum. What's the story, morning glory?", America munched with his mouth open just to piss off the other nation.

"We are going to a ball.", England sighed as he ignored the blatant display of bad manners, showing the other nation the invitation.

"Fuck that.", America sprayed cookie crumbs at it as he snorted.

"It says 'all legible maidens'.", England pointed out, shaking the invitation clean.

"So?", America was really not getting it, the nation charmingly scratching his nads through his pink gown.

"That dress says your legible.", England arched an brow at him as the point struck home with the American.

"Shit…..", America groaned, rubbing the sides of his face with his hands and glared down at his dress. It didn't look any better with all the bows torn off of it.

Turning to the other nation in the room, England made his apologies. "I'm sorry, love, but you can not go to the ball I'm afraid. Dramatic build up and all that rot.".

"Oh. Ok.", Canada nodded, "Would you like some more tea?"

"Thank you. That would be lovely, dear.", England smiled. Canada made excellent tea.

"Fuck that! Canada, you can totally go! In fact, go in my place! You would look wicked awesome in a puffy dress!", America jumped up to tackle his twin before he could leave the room.

"No, he can not!", England stomped over to smack America upside his head. "That's not how the story goes and you know it!".

"But I hate these dresses. They make me look fat!", America wailed, still sitting on Canada.

"Only the dresses makes you look fat?", England asked a little too innocently, "And get off your poor brother. You'll smother him.",

"I am not fat. Fucking jerk. No one looks good in pink taffeta. Nobody!", America grumbled, climbing off of Canada who was ever so grateful. It just felt so geographically wrong to him.

"I like my dress!", Sealand chirped, reminding everyone that he was still in the room with them but only briefly. Always the problem solver, America promptly kicked him out an open window.

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Later on that night…  
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"So why didn't you go to the ball?", Kumajirou asked. Canada and him were currently sitting out in the garden looking up at the stars.

"I'm not supposed to until my fairy godmother shows up.", Canada explained.

"Who's that supposed to be?", Kumajirou whined.

"I imagine it is going to be a pretty lady with fairy wings or if this follows America's version, an older grandmother type with a wand.", Canada said thoughtfully.

"So it's not that hot mess coming over here our way?", Kumajirou pointed a paw off to the distance but it was a little hard to miss. A figure was strutting through the garden surrounded by many little white birds all of which were named Pierre.

"No…..that would us.", Canada sighed in defeat, all hopes of Liechtenstein of being the fairy godmother crushed.

"I know you have been waiting for moi so moi is here!", France cheered for himself with a spray of hearts and roses.

"Why are you naked? This is a children's story.", Canada asked in a weary tone, brushing rose petals out of his hair and off of the bear. "This tale is not going to be able to keep its 'G' rating."

"Boo. Play your part and be in awe of seeing your very own fee marraine.", France pouted, "And I am not naked. I have my rose. ". The nation pointed to his brief floral covering.

"Oui Papa but I think you should have chosen a different bloom.", Canada tried to explain tactfully.

"What? But I look gorgeous in ze rouge.", France took the time to look insulted even as he preened.

"There is nothing wrong with the color. It's just…..", Matthew trailed off hoping that France would catch on and certain things could be left unsaid.

"We can totally see your ball sack, you fucking pervert.", Kumajirou explained, cause bears don't give a shit about things like tact.

"Do you want to go to ze ball or not?", France pouted, crossing his arms over his hairy chest in a huff.

"I guess so.", Matthew sighed with a shrug.

"I want a little more enthusiasm zhan zhat. I am going to make you fabulous.", France spazzed, his flock of Pierres spazzing with him with a fussy cloud of hearts, rose petals, and feathers. "I am here zo that you can go to zhis ball in ze style!"

"You look like you need it more than him.", Kumajirou grumbled, resting his fuzzy head on his paw. France didn't wait for any more backtalk from either Canadian or bear, the amorous nation springing into action.

"Hold still!", France leered, pouncing on his prey.

"Hands! Watch the hands!", Canada yelped as his dingy dress went flying off of his body cause France is all pervertedly talented like that.

"Voila! What do you think!?", France looked way to pleased with himself.

"It's….oh dear…..", Canada was rendered speechlessly by his gown or lack there of.

"You look like hooker with a Disney fetish.", Kumajirou observed. He'd seen more lace on a doily than what Canada was currently wearing.

"I can't go in this! People will see everything!", Canada said, quickly covering some of his anatomy up. It was getting chilly down there.

"Zhat is the point, ma petite. We are trying to get ze prince to notice you and fall in love.", France pointed out, admiring his handiwork as he caressed an exposed buttock. Canada smacked his hand away with an embarrassed squeak.

"Oh yeah. The prince will notice him alright. It's not everyday someone decides to wear a napkin as a dress to a ball.", Kumajirou snickered, "You'll make the worst dressed list for sure."

"Zhat is it! La bibbity bobbity!", France snapped, pointing a rose at the polar bear cub, enveloping the tiny animal in an opaque puff of smoke. France waved away the smoke with his rose to look up. And up. And up into the gaping jaws of a fully grown polar bear.

"Boo.", Kumajirou growled out, grinning wide at the sudden turn of events.

"Le eek!", France shrieked, taking off into a full out run with Kumajirou snapping at his heels.

"Oh no. Stop. Please don't kill each other. That would be just awful", Canada said dryly as he looked around for something to cover himself up with. And figure out how to walk when he found that something. Canada was wearing glass wedges with an eight inch heel on them. Walking was going to be an adventure in balance, stairs a true test of endurance, and dancing a death match between him and the floor. "I can't go any like this.", he mumbled more to himself than anyone else so he was really surprised when France responded to him.

"Zhat iz true! You need a ride.", France gasped, almost bending over double in an effort to catch his breathe.

"What happened to my bear?", Canada asked warily. A full grown nine foot tall polar bear was kinda hard to miss and misplace.

"Here.", France passed him a fluffy bag, one shaped like a polar bear.

"You turned him into a purse?", Canada frowned but slug the strap over his bare shoulder.

"This had better wear off, you fat sack of crap!", the bear shaped purse yelled at France.

"Oh yay. He still talks.", Matthew sighed flaty, "Thank you ever so much for that."

The sarcasm was wasted on France though. He was already moving on to bigger and better things as he started to rifle through the garden's vegetable path.

"Hon, hon, hon. Zhis will be perfect!", Francis chuckled, holding up what Canada thought was a head of lettuce. It turned out to be a blob of white eating some lettuce. It stared big blue, strangely familiar eyes at Canada, popping out some stars and stripe flags from its side in greeting.

"You can't be serious.", Canada stared. Oh but France was. So horribly was. With a wave of his rose, the mochi turned into a small round carriage. Canada shook his head as the carriage blinked its eyes at him.

"It's ok! I'm American!", the MochiAmerica carriage yelled at Canada. France was too busy again to notice. He was currently herding a pair of cats toward the carriage. One was a huge white tom cat with a dark tail and ruff of fur around his neck. The tom's facial marking looked like glasses underneath its large blue eyes. The other cat was smaller with a peaches and cream coloring to its fur. The most noticeable feature about the smaller feline was the it's folded over ears, giving the cat the illusion of having giant eyebrows over emerald green eyes.

With another wave of his rose, the cats grew in size and changed…but not too much. They didn't become horses cause that would be ridiculous. I mean seriously, who does that? Hahahahahah HA!

…  
Anyway, long story short, Canada got his barely covered ass to the ball.  
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Prussia walked up and down a row of girls who had lined up to dance with the prince. "Too ugly, too tall, too killy, too 'dear god woman, how are you standing up with those things on your chest!', too pedo….", Gilbert walked down the line, dismissing each and every girl with a flick of his wrist.

While this was happening, plans were being made by the buffet. "You should go up and try to dance with him.", England instructed, smacking his fan against America's shoulder to get his attention. The blonde was currently trying to end the entire buffet all by himself.

"Have you had any of these quail eggs? They're great! I was thinking 'ok, tiny eggs. Who gives a shit?', but seriously these things are amazing!", America rambled on as he ignored the question, popping more of the tiny appetizers in his mouth.

"Pay attention, damn it. That is the prince. You have to at least try to dance with him.", England face palmed with a groan. "Your brother can't make his entrance until you do.".

"Fine.", America huffed like a thirteen year old girl deprived of her copy of Twilight, "Where is the royal dude?".

"He is that spot of bother over there wearing the crown, idiot.", England pointed the prince out with his handy fan. Suck it France. He could totally accessorize.

"But that's just Prussia! Ah fuck that! I'm not dancing with him.", America snorted. As much as Prussia liked to brag, the pale nation couldn't dance to save his life or his partner's toes. Before he could shove another tiny egg into his mouth, America found himself in a painful headlock with a butter knife pressed up against his ball sack.

"You will dance with that arrogant tosspot or so help you god, I will make your 'in between' lighter. This damn story doesn't have any proper tea within it and if I don't get a decent cuppa soon, I will end you in the most painful of ways possible, I promise you that. Now, do we have an understanding, an accord if you will, my sweet darling boy?", England grinned manically down at America, falling back to his old pirate tactics to get what he wanted.

"Aye, aye Captain.", America winced as he was let go and shoved toward the prince with a quick kick to his behind for encouragement.

"Kesesesese! Who are you supposed to be? Even better question, what are you supposed to be and how many muppets had to die to make that dress?!", Prussia laughed as America presented himself before him, dressed up in the latest pink version of fugly eveningwear.

"Fuck you too. I didn't pick the dress.", America glared. It wasn't his fault that his dress was made out of some sort of furry material or that the author of this story was being a dick.

"Well bitch, that shit ain't cute.", Prussia dissolved into another bout of laughter.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Yuck it up, laughing boy. You have to dance with me.", America growled out through clenched teeth.

"The hell I do.", Prussia scowled. He wasn't about to even come near that dress. It looked like it would shed.

"Um, you totally have to. It's part of the story, dumbass. You have to dance with one of the evil stepsisters.", America said snidely, "And it's not like I want to dance with you."

"So what you are saying is that I have options. So where is the other sister?", Prussia looked around hopefully.

"I'm evil.", Sealand yelled, causing everyone to jump and grimace.

"Nein. Pass.", Prussia snorted.

"Yup. I'm looking pretty good now, ain't I?", America smirked, preening like a beauty contestant.

"I'm eligible!", Sealand protested, doing a twirl.

"The hell you are! Get away from me before you get this story banned!", Prussia yelled, shoving the micro nation away from him.

"But I'm a pretty girl. Don't you wanna do me?!", Sealand whined, shaking his assets or total lack there of.

"OH. HELL. NEIN.", Prussia spat out each word with force, "Correction. You are jail bait. Now go get cursed or eat a magic mushroom or something."

"You're a jerk!", Sealand cried, running off in tears. The room tried but in the end, nobody cared.

"I've been called worse by better.", Prussia shrugged, ignoring Sealand's dramatic exit. Apparantly that counted as dancing or something, because the crowd parted with a gasp as Canada entered the room.

"Now we're talking.", Prussia leered, striding over to the princess…..The maid…..the barely dressed person. "Hey Birdie, looking good.".

"My butt is cold, my feet hurt, and it's drafty in here, but that doesn't really matter cause I'll die of embarrassment before I get sick.", Canada muttered, his cheeks bright cherry red.

"You are in luck then. I'm so awesome I can help you out.", Prussia grinned, the expression wide and sharp. Canada looked doubtful but decided to risk it.

"How?", Canada asked, narrowing his eyes at the pale prince.

"I can totally tell time.", Prussia pointed to the hall's clock. "It's midnight."

"Good for you?", Canada said slowly, "How does that help me?" He didn't have to wait long for an answer. With a poof of smoke, all the rest of Canada's clothing disappeared.

"Kesesesese. Right on time.", Prussia leered, pulling the Canadian close.

"Damn it, France!", Canada cursed, envisioning a horrible series of deaths for the butt munch failure of a fairy godmother.

"Hey Birdie, I am totally good with this look!", Prussia laughed, running his hands up and down bare skin and making the story totally lose its 'G' rating.

"B-but! I'm supposed to run away and lose my shoe.", Canada stammered, trying to leave to find groping hands of invasion all over him, like a thirsty German on a beer.

"Fuck that!", Prussia threw Canada over his shoulder and ran out of the room cackling.

"So…is this shit show over yet?", America asked, shoving the last of the quail's eggs down his bottomless gullet.

"One can only hope.", England shrugged, looking over his shoulder to glare at the author who did not give a single fuck.

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"Do you?", Austria asked, rolling his eyes.

There was a shy nod from a ducking head.

"Do you?", Austria asked the other.

Another nod, this one more definite from the larger of the couple.

"This is ridiculous! I refuse to….", Austria would have continued but he was hit on the back of the head with a frying pan.

"Finish it.", Hungry snarled in warning. This was too adorable to be messed up now.

"Fine. I know pronounce you married.", Austria pouted, "I'm leaving.".

"Don't let the door hit you on your delicate fanny.", Prussia laughed as the newly married couple of Kumajirou and Gilbird rode off into the sunset courtesy of the mochi carrige.

"It's ok! I'm American!"

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This crack is done. What? You want more? Well here you go, baby bird!  
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During the 2012 Summer Olympic held in London, England, there was a mix up in the flags during NBC's coverage of it. While the good Ol' Stars and Stripes was labeled correctly, China was tagged as Australia, Russia was shown with a weird flag no one bothered to identity, the German flag was presented under the name of Great Britain, and the extremely recognizable Canadian flag was labeled as Germany.

While some country's feathers were ruffled by it and others chuckled, one country in particular was affected by it.

"MEIN! MEIN! MEIN!"

Canada's eyebrow twitched with every shouted claim as everyone in the room turned to stare at Prussia.

"MEIN! HE'S ALL MEIN! NOW THE ENTIRE WORLD KNOWS! HANDS OFF FUCKERS! HIS VITAL REGIONS ARE MEIN!", Prussia laughed manically, tossing his head back like a mad man.

"Gil….it doesn't work that way…..", Canada sighed, burying his burning face into a convenient polar bear's fur.

"Who are you?", cause Kumajirou liked to rub salt into an open wound. The bear found himself snatched out of his owner's hands and his snout pressed up to the television screen.

"GERMANY BITCH!"  
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"I don't know why you are laughing, git.", England arched a huge brow at an extremely amused America, who was still curled up on the floor shaking with mirth.

"Dude, c'mon. That's wicked funny.", America gasped for air, wiping tears from his eyes. "You totally messed up. What's not hilarious about you sucking?".

"Me? Oh you poor daft fool, I have done no such thing", England said calmly, taking a long sip of tea for dramatic effect

"Whatcha talking about, home skillet?", America's baby blue eyes narrowed. He didn't like it when England looked that calm in light of a mistake especially one that involved the Olympics. The world games had driven him half crazy with worry and nervousness for months.

"If I am not mistaken, NBC is your news channel, not mine.", England smiled slow and wide like a snake ready to devour a rat, "So that would make it your blunder and not mine, you ignorant fat git.".  
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"Hey England, why is America crying in a corner?", Canada asked, a little concerned for his twin.

"I haven't a clue. It must have been something he ate.", England shrugged as he enjoyed watching the Olympics in peace and quiet, relatively speaking of course with all the other nations staying over at his house.

"I have told him time and time again not to eat your food. Does he listen to beautiful moi? Non. ", France sniffed, "La, I knew it would catch up with him zome day."

"Wanker!"


End file.
